Cinderella Changes
by S Luna B
Summary: Cinderella Changes A story with influences from the original Cinderella story After losing her Mother and Brother, Rose leads a sad life. Can somebody prove to her that not everyone hates her?
1. Chapter 1

For Rose, it had all gone wrong the day her mother died.

I had been seven, my mother and Hugo had gone out to the park for an hour, leaving me with the Potters as I had declined the offer.

It was there at the little park at the end of the road, that the end of the road came faster than I could control.

A small explosive the muggles had said, and up until my second year (before I the outcome a _Reducto_ could do) I'd believe that, there'd been no bodies, but after an explosion I needed little imagination to think of why.

My father had withdrawn after that day, I no longer visited the Potters, it was just me and my sorrowful father hidden in his office, no one left to comfort me.

That was the last day I'd seen my father do magic.

It didn't take long for _them_ to enter my miserable life, _Mrs Perfect_ and her pureblood twins. When my father had met _her_ I first thought it would be good to have some company, despite the guilt of someone replacing my mother and Hugo, but Martha and Martin didn't care for a half-blood like me, a trait that had come from their mother.

Margaret had just lost her Pureblood husband to a disease, (I have theories he poisoned himself, who would want to stay married to _that_ thing) so she chose the next best thing, a rich, single, broken pureblood man. Who just happened to be my father.

He hadn't resisted, they were married within the year. I'd been eight.

My home schooling (thankfully) had continued, and luckily I didn't have to have lessons with the twins, those 'perfects' of course had their own, "_why should they have to share with filth?"_

The cleaning maid had left after only three months, a _disagreement_ with Mrs Perfect.

_I_ took over the duties, with no pay of course. Why couldn't I _"do something to make my darling Father happy"._

Ach! That sickly voice!

Hogwarts had come as a blessing, well I suppose sort of. My 'step-siblings' were in Slytherin (surprise surprise), I in Gryffindor. Though I felt none of the courage I was supposed to, _how could I be brave when I could not even stand up against my step mother?_ I shuddered, thinking about the last time I'd 'stood up against her', I still had the scars on my back.

Albus and James were in Gryffindor too, Lilly in Hufflepuff, the two Scamanders in Ravenclaw, (where I'd nearly been sorted too), and Fred had also been Gryffindor, but he'd left, seeing as I was now entering my sixth year.

I wished I could still talk to my cousins, but Uncle Harry was no longer talking to my Father, (due to the marriage). Even Auntie Ginny wouldn't speak to him, she'd tried to, but after my Father had marriage Margaret she'd severed ties.

I knew I'd have normally been able to talk to my grandparents, but on my mother's side, they'd cut us off, on my father's side, well they were no longer with us anymore.

Albus was in my year, but he had his crowd of buddies, (Dan Finnegan, Michael Choasi and Spencer Freedly). In my year, I was that quiet studious one that hardly anyone spoke to. I knew the girls in my house, (Charlotte Bradley, Sophie Annalic and Jenny Clackley) I knew the names of all the people in my year, but it would be only occasionally you would find me hanging out with them. It seemed my friend was the Library, books couldn't tell you off or insult you, but they could tell you answers.

I trailed my hand along the newly made stitches on my old uniform, wandlessly casting a holding charm on them. I'd managed to keep them in quite good condition; I hadn't grown much over the years, still only a small bit over five foot (at least I hoped I was), so size had never been much of a problem, until, well I grew in, other areas. But lack of nutrition for three months a year (when I was at 'home') had slowed that side of things down a fair bit.

Martha was much broader than me and I'd managed to pillage some of her old uniform: a few colour spells, sizing cuts and nine washed later, you'd hardly even knew it wasn't a Gryffindor uniform. Sometimes being quite good at magic was helpful.

Since coming to Hogwarts I'd made myself a promise, I would follow my mother's footsteps and aim for the top. Luckily I'd acquired her brains (even without the many hours in the Library) so I was only merely challenged by a blonde Slytherin called Scorpius Malfoy. (Or just 'Malfoy' as Albus called him)

There was some sort of hostility toward Scorpius I never understood, I know you should never judge by parents (even though that theory is totally proved correct by my step-siblings and Margaret) so I treated him the same I treated anyone; with a sort of general silence.

Though not in the Potter clan (consisting of Albus' friends too) I could always tell when any prank that had been performed, was done by them. So this year was going to be interesting, as I was a prefect.

Three hours later I was sitting alone in a carriage on the Hogwarts Express, reading the charms textbook (again) for this year, absently practising the charms mentioned.

I heard a ruckus start outside my carriage and I looked up to see figures moving behind the frosted glass.

I sighed heavily; knowing that being a prefect meant I was actually going to have to get involved in things like this now, actually going to let myself get noticed.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open to see a terrified second year being stared to death (yes, I said stared) by three boys from my year – Jason Mclaggen, Jonathon Baker and Jack Pritchard, they called themselves 'Triple J', and were the _tough gang_ in Hogwarts. They were Slytherin, and proud of it.

I coughed loudly; slowly they turned around to face me, bored sarcastic expressions lingering on their faces.

"Was there something you wanted Weasley, or would you like me to get your _siblings_ for you?" McLaggen asked, hinting on the 'siblings' because he knew what they thought of me.

"I was just going to tell you to leave the boy alone, he's only a second year as you well know and I don't think detentions would be the best things for you on your first day back, do you?" I said smoothly, not a hint of fear in my voice. My life had taught me to hate bullying, and hiding fear was one of the things Margaret had taught me.

McLaggen's eyes flickered down to my prefect badge on my uniform and I saw the hint of anger spark his pupils.

"Come on guys," he said to his sheep, "obviously Weasley has a thing for younger boys."

I inwardly grinned at his lack of a good comeback. The three boys turned and made their way back to their compartment.

I looked down to where the young boy had been sat against the wall, but he'd gone. Obviously having left as soon as I'd gotten the older boys' attention away from him.

I sighed again and turned back into my own compartment, picking my book back up. It was going to be another long year.

**AN**

**Thank you for reading.**

**I know it is short, but it is mostly introductory and I hope further chapters are longer. **


	2. First Change StepSiblingLess Lessons

**First Change – Step-Sibling-less lessons**

Another problem with being a prefect, this year was 'Ball year', in other words, the school balls were open to my year group now, and prefects were asked to attend to 'keep it under control'. At least I could use that as my excuse for not having a date.

Having already read all of my books (and made notes, of course) when I got into my dorm that evening, I began rummaging around in the box under my school bed. At the end of every year I left a few important things in a black box here so that they were less likely to be found by the 'Steps' if they were to be at home.

I found the necklace that my mother had given me on my sixth birthday, it had three simple shapes dangling off the bronze chain, a line, a circle and a triangle. My mother had said it had been given to her when she was pregnant with me and the shapes had reminded her of the deathly hallows (something she'd told me of) so she said, I had given her life so I should be her master of death.

I hadn't understood it then, but now, as I gazed down at the browning red symbols, it seemed ironic that her own 'master of death' was unable to save her and was the only one left alive.

I felt my expression fall painfully, I certainly didn't feel alive, I feel dead, hollowed out and filled with the lead of dread about the upcoming year.

For the first time since my mother died I slipped on the necklace, feeling the cool of the metal against my pale skinned neck.

I glanced up at my reflection, deep red curls streaked with golden brown fell down to my waist. I'd inherited the red from my father and a toned down curl from my mother.

_Too much thought of my mother in one day._

I silently slipped into my nightclothes, whispered, '_Nox_' and climbed into bed, hoping for a good first day.

I awoke dead on six in a cold sweat, remnants of the nightmare still lingering in my mind, a pale unknown hand grasped my wrist preventing me from leaving, _leaving what though?_

I showered quickly, charming my hair dry and pulling on my uniform. A glance out of the window told me it was still cold, judging by the mist that was hanging over the lake, so I grabbed my cloak too.

On my way down to breakfast I spotted a stranded first year. She had brown hair pulled into two plaits either side of her head, and a mousy expression, which changed from a fearful fright to one of relief when she spotted my prefect badge.

"Excuse me miss?" she al but squeaked, revealing that her voice matched her persona quite well; small and mousy.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"Um, how do I get to the great hall again?"

I smiled kindly, "Remember, just keep going downwards until you get to the big entrance hall."

She smiled back gratefully and sparked up a conversation. Sabina, as I found out her name was, turned out to be rather interesting, she was a muggleborn by birth and found the whole experience extremely overwhelming. She also seemed a girl after my own heart as she had looked at most of her books and decided she was most exited about Transfiguration.

I bid the smiling girl goodbye as we reached the Great Hall and she scurried over to the Ravenclaw table. I found a place at Gryffindor and waited for Professor Longbottom to hand out the timetables.

I skimmed the sheet before me, cast a form of the _gemio_ charm to copy my new timetable into the back of my diary, the hurried back to my dorm to collect my books for today.

Double Potions, Transfiguration, Free, Arithmancy and Muggle Studies.

It should be interesting to see who is still taking what.

Professor Neglegar was already waiting behind his desk when I got to the dungeon, his general scowl imprinted into his features, his sharp jaw matching his short, sleek black hair. Not once had I seen him smile unless it was but with malice.

There were five others still carrying on with potions, this meant a table each; Albus Potter, surprisingly; two Ravenclaws; another Gryffindor (Charlie Preset) and Scorpius Malfoy. I was the only girl. Though surprised by Albus, there were none in regards to the last on that list. Malfoy regularly competed with me for end of term tests, and due to the fact in lessons (the ones with my step-siblings in) I keep out of the limelight, he'd be top in most lesson time. I was in a way looking forward to Potions this year (ignoring the fact the teacher was severe and I was going to have to put up with the jokes about being female) due to the fact I could excel now and be more free because of the lack of step-siblings in this class.

Neglegar set us off with a claming draught to 'refresh our memories'. Jimmy Kelpie (one of the Ravenclaws) had to take some of Malfoy's because he got so worked up when his failed.

I could see him dropping this early on.

At the end of the lesson we were set the homework to find some general research on the Draught of the Living Death so we could brew it next lesson. I jotted it down in my diary and swept my contents back into my bag and headed off to Transfiguration.

By the end of the day I was slightly intrigued by the fact that Malfoy was still in all of my lessons (so far). If I pondered on it too long I ended up thinking that he was stalking me, so I passed it off as a funny coincidence. I never knew he liked Muggles so much as to study them…

In my free I'd done my transfiguration homework (an essay on Animagi) while it was still fresh in my mind, and having (again, so far) all step-sibling free lessons I'd not had to work slowly in lessons like everyone else so I had no extra 'finish this for homework' tasks from my teachers. I had only my Potions essay left to do and that wasn't needed in until Wednesday.

After a word with the elderly Madam Pince she let me loose in the Restricted section, saying 'You're trustworthy enough, just don't take anything out.'

That rule was always fine by me; all I really needed was a few well chosen paragraphs copied out.

It was during this alone time in the restricted section that I found the legendary Half-Blood Prince's book.

I ran my hands over the well worn copy of _Advanced Potion Making_, one that was assumed to be destroyed (according to what my mother had told me). Obviously the fiend fire had not done its job, I pondered if it were simply a replica book made my Snape himself, or if it really had survived the blaze.

I wondrously flicked trough the pages to see the black inked scrawl covering the pages with Snape's own notes. I felt deceitful to Madam Pince and indeed to my mother, but a _Gemeo_ charm later found me walking out of the library, my notes and a my own replica book tucked securely in my bag.

The end of the week brought about a few things; I finished the book; produced a perfect Draught of the Living Death due to that; found out I share all but one of my Lessons with Malfoy and the one Malfoy free lesson (charms – still considered an easy option had too many people in to just have one class so he was in the other one) has the 'Steps' in. (I only shared Herbology with them otherwise)

It seemed to be the start of a promising year.

I eased in well to the year; perfecting privileges gave rise to many late night walks though the castle and its peaceful midnight grounds.

One evening in early October I pulled my scarf tight to my neck, donned with two thick jumpers I clutched the outcome of my summer job.

Whilst the job had given me many excuses to leave the house (always a good thing), working at Flourish and Blots repairing books had given me a very tidy sum.

So, this year, I was learning to fly.

It was ten o'clock now, the pitch was deserted and in my hands I held my _Firebolt Sparks_ before me, I could feel it quivering in anticipation beneath my cold wintered fingers.

I mounted cautiously and, after a deep breath, pushed off.

I shot fifty feet in the air before I regained control once more, then I bolted forward as the awaited exhilaration kicked in. Turning sharply at the top of my flight I plummeted back toward the ground, the frozen moss of the grass barely colour identified by the weak, cloud covered moon.

I pulled out of the dive much earlier than I'd have wanted to, but face planting on my third flight out was probably not the best idea I've ever come up with.

Other than my red hair, flying was another thing I'd gotten from my father. I felt at ease while I flew, the height and speed only adding to the pure thrill filling my body as I twisted and turned.

I fell into bed that evening with my heart still fluttering relentlessly and a smile lingering on my lips.

I awoke the next morning however, not as good after seeing the common room notice board – a Christmas-themed ball on December 3rd, two months until I had to endure a room filled with fancy-dressed peers in pairs. I sighed resentfully and headed down to breakfast.

I was slightly cheered by the Gringotts letter I received informing me of the generous interest my vault had received. _Looks like I should get some smart clothes for this stupid ball, maybe next Hogsmeade trip._

I felt a smile creep back to my lips, despite to upcoming inevitable shopping trip, due to the prospect of potions (surprisingly). We were going to be making Amortentia.

Half and hour later found me staring at the characteristic swirls, mother of pearl sheen and taking a deep inhalation of the amiable aroma sweetly clouding my senses.

I took out my parchment and began to write what I could smell:

_Old books _(no surprises there)

_Sugar quills_ (an all time favourite of mine)

_Sweet, musky, unidentifiable scent_ (not sure about the last one but I'd defiantly smelled it before)

When I looked up from writing my personal smells I found Malfoy reading over my shoulder. I blushed slightly and glanced up at his amused expression, his clear blue eyes twinkling with a strange unknown happiness. _I think it would be best if it stayed unknown_.

"And what would Mr Nosy be doing?" I enquired, feeling much bolder due to the amazing scent that still filled my brain.

He didn't even flinch, instead a smirk reached his rouge lips, but he paused for a second before saying, "old books?" I could tell he was going to have said something else, _I wonder what held him back?_

I did blush deeper though, to hide it I reached over to his desk and snatched up his own parchment:

_Old books_

_Rain_

_Flowery scent_

My own smirk formed, I raised my eyebrows, "you were saying?"

He had the decency to blush then, but a small smile still stayed in his eyes as he looked down at me, "I just never thought I'd share something in common with you," his voice was oddly quizzical.

I frowned slightly at his tone, shrugged a little and said quietly, "I am a normal person too; I just like to keep to myself." I wasn't sure if he heard me because I'd turned back to my potion, receiving another whiff of that unknown intoxication, my eyes rolled back slightly at its sensual taste that formed on my tongue.


	3. Second Change Breaking Through

**The 2nd Change – Breaking through**

That evening symbolised the first breakthrough regarding the family I once knew. It came, surprisingly, in the form of Quidditch, and even more surprisingly, from Albus.

I was out for another fly, trying to rid my mind of that unknown smell. I furiously chased an old snitch through the clear, crisp air, my breath forming a stream of white behind me, like that of an aeroplane trail.

As it neared eleven I touched down gracefully, sweating lightly despite the freeze of the evening.

There, stood by the exit, was Albus Potter, an awkward yet slightly awed expression filling his face.

"Um, Rose?" he choked slightly, and then muttered to himself, I only caught a few words of it though, "really was telling the truth."

"Albus?" I asked cautiously.

"Rose, listen I-" he stopped, seeming to backtrack, and then said, "I think you should tryout for seeker Weasley, tryouts are on Sunday."

I openly gaped at him, to scared to move, "Albus I -"

"I'll see you there," he cut me off sharply, I could see the odd fear in his eyes as he turned to leave, but at the last minute he spun around, adding, " It was nice to see you Rose, I missed you."

"Me too," I managed to say before he left the stadium.

As Sunday drew closer any thoughts about my unknown Amortentia smell seemed irrelevant as nerves took the front line.

On Sunday morning I sat as silently as ever, hardly eating and tapping a bread roll almost impatiently against my pumpkin juice.

An owl dropped a scroll on my lap causing me to hit the goblet too hard, tipping its contents on the table. I hastily pulled out my wand, "_Evanesco_!" the orange spillage vanished and I tilted my goblet back to its right way.

I then focused my attention to the parchment resting on my legs.

It was tied with a smooth white ribbon and I could feel the small holding charm that kept it from sliding off.

Cautiously I tugged on it, letting the parchment unroll;

_Good luck today _

_X_

I felt my eyes widen, through my lonely façade I talked to no-one, so only Albus was aware of my intentions for today, unless he told someone.

Just as I was thinking that, a second identical scroll landed atop of the other, I eagerly pulled it open;

_And eat something!_

_X_

I felt the grin pull at my lips, _how did he know?_ A quick glance along the table confirmed that he'd already left for the pitch, so I grabbed a slice of toast and made my way there too, enlarging my shrunken broom from my pocket, a very handy attribute of the _Firebolt Sparks_.

There were six of us, I would say that we were all nervous, but Steven Blakered defied that rule, standing there with an air of importance despite being a year younger than me. He did regard me with a look of quizzicality though when he noticed me, obviously I was not only known throughout my _own_ year as a bookworm.

Albus blew the whistle loudly silencing the existing team (who were nattering away behind him) and the few students who had come to watch. The whole Slytherin team being seven of them, _of course their seeker Malfoy among them._

We did a few laps first, two out of our six dropped out at this early stage, steadying my nerves a bit, but still I could feel my heart beating strongly against my ribcage, almost as if it was struggling to contain it.

Then, Albus let out the snitch.

We stood in a line, poised to fly; I traced the fleck of gold with my eyes, waiting to hear the whistle that would announce our ability to take off.

The second the sharp trill pierced my ears I pushed hard, only vaguely aware I was first off the ground.

The golden ball soared high before plummeting back down and, despite being momentarily blinded by the weak October sun on my upward flight, I pivoted sharply and followed its arc downwards. It was testing me, I realised, as the ground neared faster, with my momentum gaining in tedium with my speed. _I_ was gaining on _it_ though, aware that someone was tailing me I pushed harder, leaning closer to my broom, disregarding any thoughts involving hitting the ground. That bit I could worry about later.

My hand reached out almost automatically to clasp my fingers around the cool metal once I was within arms length from it.

The first bit was over, now all I had to do was pull out of this dive.

Even though my broom needed little physical indications, I'm not sure it would have reacted fast enough on thought alone to keep me out of the hospital wing.

Grasping the front of my broom tightly with my free hand I yanked upward, corkscrewing slightly to slow, I levelled out and jumped off.

Blackard landed heavily beside me a minute later and Albus took the snitch from me only seconds after that.

"Welcome to the team, you are gratefully received," Albus intoned.

I heard a mumbled congratulation from Blackard, but he did cheer up slightly when Albus informed him that he'd made reserve.

I took my time to shower and change in the Quidditch changing room, exiting slowly as I wandered toward the store room to replace borrowed kit.

I felt elated, my cousin, my once best friend, had accepted me, nothing could bring me down, nothing – "Oi _sis_!"

Except that.

Suddenly the whole Slytherin team stood before me, my beater step siblings at the front flanking their captain keeper Mclaggen, Malfoy hung silently at the back.

I stayed quiet, not wishing to rile them anymore.

"I _suppose_ we should _congratulate_ you," Martin said, a grin spreading across his face, I could see a glint of malice in Martha's eyes that was not looking good on the Rose-staying-whole front.

"I'd like to say we are now worried about the Gryffindor competition-"Martha began.

-"But well…" Martin let it hang in the air purposefully, his sneer plastered on his face as he critically looked me up and down, an air of disgrace billowed from him.

Mclaggen and his group laughed.

_Don't rise to it!_

Martha took that all important step toward me, sealing my fate. I braced myself for the blow, and I didn't have to wait long.

"You're nothing but a worthless piece of crap!" The punch was harder than I'd expected, I heard the familiar crack behind my ear followed by the splitting headache, as I always did.

_Don't rise to it!_

After having a good few step-sibling-free weeks I was out of practice, I felt my anger rise despite my attempts to quell it. I brought a hand up to cradle my skull, feeling the cool liquid of my blood between my fingers.

_Don't rise to it!_

One last punch to the other side of my head by someone, I'm not sure who, doubled the pain in my already searing skull. But they left me then, swaggering off back to the castle.

The last thing I remember before blacking out was Malfoy looking back with an odd expression on his otherwise blank face.

I woke back up about ten minutes later, lying beside the storage shed with a cracked skull and a bloody mess. I had just paid for stepping out of line. I had gotten off lightly.

An _episki _and a _scorify_ later left me with only the headache to deal with.

One thing did cheer my mood though, (after the pain potion had kicked in that is) later that evening as I was heading out of the library, one of the school owls collided with me and dropped a scroll on my still slightly pain filled head. At first I failed to notice the white ribbon securing the note, as I was scolding the owl for harassing me, but once I'd glimpsed the letter in my hands the owl was forgotten and my attention focused elsewhere.

My vow of never reading in the corridors (a vow made after an unfortunate incident involving me, a pillar and a five person pile up) was sorely tested as I found I could almost not get back to the tower fast enough to satisfy my curiosity.

Once snuggled in my favourite chair in the quieter corner of the common room, I eagerly slid the white ribbon off, unrolling the parchment and spreading it open on my knee.

Even if Albus were writing to me in letters, written word was still better than nothing, it was still a foot on the stairs to having some sort of normal friend in my family.

_Congratulations, you flew beautifully today_

_I can't wait to see you fly again._

_And I want you to know, you shouldn't have_

_to put up with what your step-siblings do to you,_

_you are worth more than them_

_xxx_

Whilst overjoyed on the compliment on my flying and the three kisses written at the end, the letter as a whole confused me somewhat.

One kiss I could understand from a male cousin, but three?

Also, unless he'd followed me after the tryouts, how would he have known what my step-siblings had done.

Maybe someone else was watching and told him? That seemed plausible.

Or maybe someone else wrote the notes.


	4. Third Change Who knew of my Birthday?

**The 3rd change - Who knew of my birthday?**

I decided that I would find a way of asking Albus if he'd written the notes, or followed me, without trying to sound like I was asking him if he'd written me any notes. Easier said than done.

I bottled out in Transfiguration, there were too many girls surrounding him, but when Potions came around I managed to pluck up the courage.

Albus was making his way back to his desk, Neglegar was rummaging in the store closet and everyone else seemed to be concentrating on their revitalising potion, so once he got in line with my desk I surreptitiously tugged on his sleeve.

He turned slightly, stopping beside my desk.

"Albus, I was wondering if … well how you knew I would be flying that evening?" I had whimped out of my original question, but I suppose I did want to know the answer to that one too.

He looked up for a moment, over my head to focus on something there, before saying, "I guess someone likes to watch you fly."

Okay, so I'm guessing that means someone told him.

"I want to congratulate you on getting the team by the way, I haven't had a chance, you should have come to the party in the common room afterwards." He smiled slightly and made for his desk.

Well that answered that then. So the letter was not from him, or else he would have known I couldn't have gone to the party in my beaten-up state, and he wouldn't have said he hadn't had the chance to congratulate me yet if he'd already done it in a letter.

Once my potion was done, I spent the rest of the lesson pondering on who my mysterious note sender was.

The answer came that night.

I was studying late one evening in the library when a book carefully slid onto the desk in front of me. I glanced up, following the nervous hands holding the book to the rolled up school sleeves to the face of Lily Potter.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I waited for her to speak first, unsure as what to call her; Lily or Potter?

"Rose"- _Lily it was then_ - "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure," I said, "sit down."

She sat down heavily, "Gosh you do not know how hard it was for me to say that, I mean can't my parents just let me talk to you!" it was more said to herself than to me, but I stared blankly at her. "Listen Rose, Al and I were talking, we really miss you and, well, we say - stuff our parents, we want our friend back."

I gaped at her, "Lily, I, I don't know what to say."

"I don't expect anything of you yet, I know we've treated you badly in the past, but I thought it would be nice to at least have the last few years here being on speaking terms with you."

I was shocked, "I would like that."

"As much as I would like to disobey my parents, I can't openly hang out with you, well, not all the time. But you'll get to see Albus a lot now anyway with Quidditch, and I'll still speak to you when I can."

Lily seemed to be anxious that I'd be annoyed that she wouldn't be public about a friendship, but how could I be when she was willing to speak to me.

"Lily, right now I'd be happy with anything."

Lily smiled sadly and stood up, but a sudden cheer filled her face as she turned to leave, "I'll see ya around Rosie!"

I smiled, this was more of a breakthrough than I could have imagined, in a week I'd gone from talking to no one, to having actual conversations with a member of my long forgotten family, (that didn't involve the words "can you pass the snakes' fangs") and I'd gotten on the Quidditch team. (Though I'd paid dearly for that one)

So that was the most plausible answer, Lily. A girl cousin is acceptable for three kisses, maybe she was the one who saw me fly…? Nah, she hates evenings alone as I remember rightly, too dark for her.

Albus approached me in Potions two days before my birthday, "Weasley, just want to say that we've got Quidditch practice on Thursday evening. I'll see you there."

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds before saying quietly, "Um, yeah, and tell Lily I say thanks for the letters."

Albus frowned slightly and said, with a hint of confusion to his tone, "She's sending you letters?"

"Um, I assume so."

He shook his head a bit and moved back to his desk, I turned back to my potion, leaning over to grab the pot of Butoboter pus from Malfoy's desk.

The day before my birthday, I received another letter in the morning, the same white ribbon holding it together, but this time with a small package.

The box was long, thin and clearly displayed the slogan 'Sugar Quills'. If I hadn't been at breakfast and was not a keeping-out-of-the-limelight-person, I would have squealed.

My mouth watered just looking at the sealed box.

I stuffed it into my bag and headed off to Transfiguration early, intent on reading the letter in the lesson.

Keeping a careful eye on McGonagall, who was marking essays at her desk, and the two desks either side of me, containing Malfoy (left) and Albus (right), I pulled out my letter, sliding the ribbon off, breaking the slight charm as I did so.

_My darling Rose_

_Rumour has it you love these, just thought I'd send some on to you._

_I hope they are as sweet as you._

_Love, Your Prince_

_xxx_

Well didn't that throw everything out the window, there in the same flowing script, the same letter style, was someone who was most definitely **not** my cousin, and they wanted me to know as much.

I realised I'd been staring at the letter for a bit too long when a deep whisper from my left reached my ears, "Weasley, you might want to pay attention!"

I wasn't sure if it was a quip or not, but I still looked blankly at Malfoy, before facing the front, my letter tucked neatly into my bag.

My birthday morning; I was one of the earlier of my year, October 24th.

Every year I received a card from my mother's parents, (they may have cut us out of their lives, but they still recognised their granddaughter), I also had a small gift from my father, proof that he actually remembers that I exist. Presents are usually nothing too personal, but I treasure them all the same.

But this year was different, this year I got something else.

There sat on the end of my bed with my usual card and box from my father (probably containing chocolate frogs), was another smaller box shaped parcel wrapped in brown paper and fastened with a ribbon (a white ribbon nonetheless, indicating as to who sent it) and a card. (I ignored the Ministry sealed envelope that was just informing me I'd turned of age).

I quietly opened the card from my Grandparents, propping it up on my bedside, the chocolate frogs (yes, I was right) were put in the drawer, then, taking a deep breath, I turned my attention to the other gift.

Carefully I slid the card from the envelope, gasping as the front was revealed.

It was a drawing, a sketch, of me.

I marvelled at how detailed it was, the Rose in the picture was leaned over, reading a book, the burred background suggesting the Library.

I wondered how long this must have taken, and why anyone would want to spend that long over a picture of me. I finally managed to tear my eyes away from the amazing sketch and open the card, which was just as confusing as the front.

_Happy Birthday my darling Rose_

_I hope you like the present._

_I guess you get little on your birthday, so I thought I could give you something nice, seeing as it is your seventeenth. _

_Love, Your Prince_

_xxx_

My eyes widened, there written in the neat slanting script was someone who noticed too much about me.

How did this person know I didn't get much for my birthday, how could they know? And why were they taking the time to sketch me?

I pulled at the white ribbon around the box, the brown paper falling off it as soon as the ribbon was clear. I prised open the small black box within and found a gasp escaping my lips once again.

Inside, sat snugly in the black satin lining, was a small silver bracelet, at regular intervals around the chain there were silver hoops, and seven in total spanned it.

I undid the clasp and slipped it onto my wrist, the cool metal against my skin feeling suddenly satisfying.

I smiled at my one true gift, feeling suddenly elated for the first time in a long while (my only small pleasures in life being my results – when I can be good). I shrugged my sleeve down over it, I'd have to be careful not to let it be seen by the 'Steps', but it was defiantly worth it.

I debated on a way to send a reply to this unknown person.

I couldn't find one, but I knew it wouldn't take long to figure out a way, a few hours in the library could solve almost anything.

I could feel my happiness pooling deep within me all day, and I vowed never to take the bracelet off.

Although the initial happiness wore off after a few days, I still felt a small sense of hope tremble inside me every time I glimpsed a spark of silver peaking out of the sleeve of my robe.

**AN**

**Thanks for the reviews people, makes my day.**


	5. Fourth Change The First Ball

**The 4****th**** change - The First Ball **

I lasted a whole month without it being seen, but as with everything, it did eventually get noticed. I suppose luck was on my side for once because it was not one of the 'Steps'.

However, it was quite an obvious observation, and by a Slytherin.

I was in the potions cupboard (and for extra credit, because Neglegar hated humanity anyway), stacking the jars, filled with unmentionable disgusting creatures, in a reasonable alphabetic order.

My outer robe was draped over a chair in the classroom, next to my bag, and the sleeves of my shirt were pushed up due to the stuffiness of the cupboard, despite having the door open.

I knew quite a fair bit of my hair had fallen from its scruffy bun at the back of my head, but I could fix that before I left.

Professor Neglegar was marking some papers at his desk and I, humming a Damien Rice song to myself, did not hear the door to the classroom open and someone walk in.

What I did hear however was, "Sure, just take some from the store."  
I had enough time to have a form of a minor panic attack, but very little else, for seconds later the doorway was filled with the figure of Scorpius Malfoy, his one had resting on the door frame as he stood in shock.

His eyes flickered to my wrist, I had one hand reaching up to a high shelf, my fingers clasped around a jar. The bracelet stood out painfully well against my pale freckled skin, the metal reflecting the minimal light, that the soft fires gave, and casting flecks of it around the room. It was hardly inconspicuous. More like a form of a muggle disco ball. I inwardly groaned, hoping he at least hadn't heard me humming.

He blushed slightly, seemingly at a loss for words he managed to chocked out, "I was just, um, coming for some, um, beetle's eyes, for our essay."

I blinked, hardly hearing what he was saying, just wishing he would leave, but at the same time marvelling at the stuttering Malfoy before me. Oh how he was different when a hoard of girls surrounded him.

I looked up at my bracelet subconsciously, averting my eyes from looking at him, but I ended up noticing the jar that my fingers were wrapped around – Beetle's eyes.

_Merlin's stripy pink underpants!_

I held it out to him awkwardly. Without taking it from me, he popped off the lid, scooped a few out and pressed the lid securely back on.

"Thank you," he spun around to leave, but turned back again in the doorway, frowning slightly he said, "oh, you know, that's a really pretty bracelet by the way." His eyes dropped to my wrist, my arm now hanging limply by my side, hand still clutching the jar of beetle's eyes.

I murmured, "thank you," unable to look away from his piercing steel grey eyes.

He left the cupboard, his deep voice muttering softly, _"nothing unusual, nothing strange..."_ the tune my own voice had been previously mumbling.

I let my eye line drop to the floor, my whole body following only moments later, _why did a Slytherin have to see it? Why can't I just have a normal life and enjoy any gifts I get?_

I hoped that **my** suspicions about Scorpius Malfoy were right, and that Albus' preconceived hostility toward him was wrong. _Please don't say anything! _I silently begged, hoping he'd suddenly become a mind reader and pick up on it.

One week later it seemed I was doing well, no words from the 'Steps' so Malfoy must have kept his mouth schtum.

But it was two days until this blasted ball.

Why did the school have to have these things, I mean I'm not against going with someone, if I had someone to go with. I suppose it's every girl's dream to be taken to a ball.

But, _why do I have to go even when I have no date and don't feel like it!_

The evening of the ball finds me staring at the simple black dress and swearing heavily under my breath.

I eventually pluck up any courage I'd had hidden deep within (well something had to have gotten me placed in Gryffindor) and slide it on.

It's very modest, full length and strapped with little or no cleavage on display (I'd gotten measured by the kind old lady in the shop and asked her to, um, keep it high).

Happy (being an overstatement by a mile) that I was decent, I pinned on my prefect badge and plaited my hair. I never left the dorm without my hair up, my fringe was enough to use to hide my eyes, and waist length hair was impractical, (yet I still could not bring myself to cut it) so it was always in some form of 'up'.

I was early down, not really surprising as I was only 'supervising' the evening.

What did surprise me though was a partner-less Malfoy following me into the hall only a few minutes after.

The girly part of me was utterly in awe at the decorations the room had taken on. True the Ball room (three classrooms joined together in an abandoned area on the fifth floor) could never look as grand as Great Hall during Christmas, but this room was still extravagant.

As my eyes travelled around the room they settled for a few moments on the still form of Scorpius Malfoy. Despite arriving alone, (_not sure if it was by choice, or if no one wanted to go with him…though the second was highly unlikely as he was a registered hot topic within the female population of the school_) he was still dressed smartly. A deep green suit with a black shirt underneath, I noticed he looked slightly unsure of himself. Well, there is a first for everything.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy, Miss Weasley," Chester Abastor (the head boy) had just entered behind us, I turned to face him, only to realise in his hand he held some very obviously charmed Mistletoe. "I'm glad you're early, could you do me a favour and conceal some of this around the room?"

Malfoy, no longer holding the unsure disposition, raised a questioning eyebrow at him, "and what would be the spell that is on them?" a slight smirk reached his lips.

Abastor, despite being scrutinised by Malfoy, just grinned, "follows the unlucky person till someone kisses them." He handed out some of the branches to the now blank-faced Malfoy and some to an equally blank-faced me.

I took my handful to the other side of the room, attaching them to the walls at random intervals with a small sticking charm and a temporary disillusion charm.

I turned around to find Malfoy grinning (_yes grinning?_) at me, "that's a good idea, disillusion them," he said, his sneaky grin rising on one side to form his trademark smirk, _wait, did he just compliment me?_, "where did you come up with that?"

I just shrugged, I was generally not one to converse with others outside of lessons, unless it was to scold some unruly student who just happened to be out three hours after curfew. Although, I normally just had to raise my eyebrows pointedly and they got the message, I'm told I can be quite intimidating when I want to be. _Try telling that to my Step mother, I'm too far beneath her for any of that to affect her, not that I would even dare to._

I made my way back to the entrance to stand by the door to collect tickets. Malfoy stood opposite, awaiting the same thing.

One minute there was about three people coming through, the next people were practically forcing their way in. I was going to have to suggest another way of checking tickets because this way was too bothersome and most people weaselled their way in. I spotted at least eight fourth years!

At around eleven thirty I decided my services were no longer needed, or rather I was fed up of hiding in the corner. There had only been one fight, and that had fizzled away before I even had to intervene, and I'd managed to avoid being seem by any of my step-siblings or, thankfully, McLaggen.

The main incident of the evening for me, was just after I left, it had taken me almost half an hour to make my way across the room and now the ball was near finishing what with the midnight curfew looming.

As I made my way down the hallway to the stairs I heard an angry hoard of profanities emitting from a classroom to my right.

"Stupid blasted thing, why did it have to get stuck on me, what a load of sh-" I _Alohamora-ed_ the door a little more forcefully than I would have liked (the two shots of Firewhiskey and my tired mind affecting my judgement a little) and the door banged onto the wall behind it. In the process revealing a slightly intoxicated Malfoy banging his head against the stone exterior wall, one of the charmed mistletoes hanging almost mockingly above his head, occasionally brushing his platinum blonde hair as if to remind him of its presence.

The glare I received didn't last long, but rather turned to a troubled grimace.

"I'm going to kill Abastor!" he exclaimed, "do you know what it like to have _this_ hanging over you like a little piece of cr-"

I coughed purposefully.

He only sneered, but it was not directed at me, which was surprising regarding the foul attention I normally received from most of the Slytherins in my year.

"Why don't you just go back to the room, I'm sure Goyle will kiss you." I said, not unkindly, Jessica Goyle was a girl in Slytherin who, to say it kindly, was not the nicest person (in regards to looks and personality), but she swooned over Malfoy in a way that made me feel slightly sickened, although, most of the female population wouldn't say no if he turned _his_ attentions to them.

He grunted forcefully, "No bloody way, I'm not heading back _there!_" he exclaimed.

I could feel a small smile pull at my lips, this whole situation was humorous if I did say so myself, the one boy who could (at any rate) get pretty much any girl in the school, was hiding in a disused classroom so he wouldn't get kissed.

"Fine then," I was astounded at myself for even lasting this long in a conversation, let alone with a Slytherin, let alone with Malfoy! I blame the Firewhiskey (even though I know it takes a lot more to get me drunk, there aren't a few bottles charmed and hidden in my room for no reason, _I mean I've got to drown my sorrows some way_).

I took a few big strides to stand beside him, pecking him on the cheek to release the curse, "I just can't stand to see you looking so blooming pathetic, it doesn't suit you, and I really need to get to bed."

His face was blank, unreadable, but I turned sharply, heading back to my dorm, instantly regretting my decision, now there was another thing I had to hope that Scorpius Malfoy would refrain from telling my step-siblings.

_Damn!_

**AN**

**I had to put this up before I bottled out of it.**

**Thanks for the reviews too!**

**Also the song is **_**Damien Rice - Amie**_


	6. Fifth Change Who Stays At Christmas

The 5th change – Who stays over at Christmas?

We were now well into December and I, of course, had just written my name down on the list to stay here for Christmas. It's not like home would be any better. At least here I could sneak down to the kitchens on Christmas day and eat with the house elves.

I never ate in the Great Hall during holidays, there were too little amount of people to hide myself in, usually they all just ate around one big table, and I don't think I could stand having all the teachers see me looking so morbidly depressed on Christmas day.

But all the same, the house elves were just as much fun, I was never hungry with them and, due to my constant kindness toward them, they sometimes managed to distract Filtch if I ever wandered back too late.

Most times, if I'd stayed there too late, I ended up sleeping the whole night on the sofa there in front of the fire. But I tended to avoid that, mainly because it gave me a sore neck in the morning.

Christmas was much like a birthday for me, except everyone else was happy, and everyone knew that the day was there for celebrating. So on my list of days to hate, it came above that of my day of birth.

I got my card from my grandparents, a scarf from my father. That was pretty much normal.

But then another, my heart racing as I noticed the characteristic white ribbon sealing the card and the small brown papered package. The envelope was just as plain and simple, and I just as carefully pulled the card out.

It was another sketch of me, this time the Rose in the picture was thoughtfully chewing the end of her quill (a sugar one), there was a small smudge of ink on the finger and her hair was only half pulled up, most of it fallen down. I couldn't help but notice that I looked vaguely pretty in the sketch, a thought that brought back that pool of happiness.

_Merry Christmas my darling Rose_

_This is for your bracelet._

_Have a good day._

_Love from your prince_

_xxx_

I untied the white ribbon that was around the small brown crinkle of paper, putting it with all the others I had, (kept in that black box under my bed along with _my prince's_ other letters, I tipped the paper up and a silver charm fell into the palm of my hand.

I moved it closer to my eyes; it was a book, a small silver representation of a book. I felt the smile fill my lips as I attached the small charm to one of the seven loops on the bracelet. Whoever this person was, they certainly wanted to be _friendly_ and by now there was no way it could ever be any of my family.

I'm deciding, (_I'm not sure if I'm being really stupid or not here)_ to go down to the Great Hall for the dinner today. The happiness from my new charm and card is overwhelming me a bit and I think I might be able to handle it.

I lightly walked in through the doors, only McGonagall looked up as I entered and I could see the smile in her eyes of a strange approval. I was too on edge to react much, but I sat down on the single long table, quietly waiting for everyone to arrive.

As I expected, most of the spaces filled up, and pretty soon I heard someone sitting heavily into the chair next to me. I kept my eyes fixed on my empty plate, hoping the food would arrive soon so I didn't need to talk to whoever was sat beside me.

I was given no choice, "Having a _good_ Christmas?" sneered Mclaggen.

I slowly turned to look at him to make a weary comment back, but a voice from behind me beat me to it.

"It's Christmas Mclaggen, give it a break." It was a smooth silky voice that cut through the sneer of Mclaggen with a soft slice.

I turned again, to face the new voice and almost choked. Malfoy was standing there, an impassive look gracing his face, looking too comfortable in his jeans and shirt.

I blinked a thankful look, but all I got was a slight nod in return before he slid into the seat on the other side of me. I guess that was him thanking me for my stupid little decision regarding the mistletoe.

However,

Now I was stuck between Mclaggen and Malfoy._**Merry**__ Christmas Rose._

I'm not really sure how I lasted through the meal, I was on edge the whole time, cautious in regard to my surroundings; contemplating as to why Malfoy had spoken so harshly to his fellow Quidditch player; and just generally avoiding conversation at all costs.

I noticed McGonagall watching me carefully throughout, _doesn't she have enough time to look at me during breakfast or dinner, or even lessons?_ Her gaze attracted the attention of Professor Longbottom (a man I used to regard as my uncle almost), who nodded at her when she smiled sadly in my direction.

I didn't need their pity, it was my fault I lived like this, since my mother and brother died I'd obviously changed, and now I was inadequate, or so I was told often by my Step mother, and deserved to have no friends.

I didn't need it, but somehow I felt better with it, it was nice to have someone who cared. That thought reminded me of my '_Prince_', someone did care about me, and I found myself beginning to like this unknown person more and more.

It was a huge relief to see two Hufflepuff girls, who'd been sitting a few seats down and on the opposite side, stand and leave the hall.

Without so much as a backward glance I stood and left only moments later, I could feel almost all of the eyes on the table boring into my back, one pair in particular.

I spent the rest of the afternoon forming snow shapes at the top of the (once grassy, now snow covered) bank that bordered the west side of the Forbidden Forest.

By the time I was done my hands were almost numb and it was cutting into evening. However I took a small moment to admire my handiwork; there was a house-elf, mid skip, chasing butterflies that I charmed to hover; a lady lovingly holding a child; a young boy being tickled by his father; a small girl doing a cartwheel, a flower tucked into her hair. Lastly there was a teen, sat separately from the scene, sat in front, her back to the joyous display behind her, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head hung.

All these were memories from my child hood, _before_. The last was a reminder that it was all in the past – I was alone now.

I cast a holding spell on everything and hurried back to the castle, wiping a few stray tears.

When I returned the next day, just to sit with my family again, I noticed something fluttering around the 'girl on the floor's neck.

A white ribbon, barely identifiable amongst all the glittering snow, but its movement gave it away.

I felt a smile tug at my lips, _my Prince has been here!_

My holding spell was still doing well, so I approached my stone cold figures, slipping the ribbon off her neck.

There, written along the smooth surface of the ribbon, were the words, _'look at the elf'_

I slowly turned my head toward the small gaily skipping figure, his one hand reached out toward the charmed butterflies, that same hand with its perfectly shaped fingers, those same fingers that had a white sheet of card propped between them.

My excitement bubbled deep and I moved quickly to pull it free.

There sketched upon its surface was my scene, in _my Prince's_ hand it was more lifelike, more enchanting, it was amazing. After studying the figures of my family my eyes flickered to the 'girl at the front'.

_She_ was different, in the drawing she was stood up, a smile gracing her features, but that was not the only difference in the picture. Behind her stood another, a male, his arms wrapped lovingly around her and his face buried, hidden, in her hair as she gazed at him, a sparkle in her eye.

I felt my knees give way and I slipped to the floor, it was magical, it filled me with some sort of indescribable hope. How this person managed to make me feel so wanted, how they made me crave that embrace, that touch. Make me feel the need to one day have _that_ look in my eyes.

It was at that moment I knew I desired it so badly, but more than anything how much I hungered for it from, _My Prince_.

**AN**

**The next chapter (half written) is going to be much longer I think, judging by how much I have for it already.**

**So, await the **_**Valentine Interests**_


	7. A Lonely Heartbroken

**A lonely heartbroken**

**AN - I know I said the next chapter would be long, but I needed to add this in before the long chapter, I've had it for a while and it can fit in here.**

**This chapter consists of a flashback – it may explain some things.**

**Also I know how out of character Ron seems, but try to see it as an extreme of his leaving in the seventh book, only it's worse because he is distraught over the loss of his wife, and, something else.**

_An eight year old Rose sits tearfully in her clashing pink bridesmaid's dress, a caring Aunt Ginny gently pressing the tears away from her white skinned cheek._

"_I don't want daddy to marry her, she's not nice, and she doesn't like me at all." Rose's small voice chokes._

_Ginny pulls her into a warm embrace, something that Rose did not realise she would not have again for many years. "I don't understand what my brother is doing, but it will be alright, he'll see it soon don't you worry. You just be the big strong girl you are and just help him get through this, okay?_

_The young girl nodded, her crimson curls bouncing, a small sob escaping her lips as a hiccup jumped her body._

"_I just want my real daddy back." _

"_So do we all, so do we all," the older red head sighed, more to herself than the frail child in her arms._

_***In the dressing room ten minutes before the wedding***_

"_Stop wallowing in your own self pity and see what you are doing Ronald!" Ginny was shouting, a despairingly hurt Harry standing beside her._

"_Shut up, I bloody well know what I'm doing!"_

"_You'll never replace them Ron, you don't need to, we'll help you, just don't do this." Harry pleaded._

"_I know I can't replace them," Ron started sadly, "but I don't want your help!" he glared angrily at them, daring them leave. Ginny could see deep in his eyes he was pleading with them to stop him, he just couldn't do anything._

"_You __**can't**__ see what you're doing, your poor daughter is crying her eyes out and asking for her _real_ daddy."_

_Harry saw Ron flinch as a strangled moan escaped the red head, "can't you see what she's doing to you!" Harry begged, distraught for his best friend's sanity and his niece's life._

_Ron flared up, "Get out, both of you get out! Just go away form me, keep out of my life! I don't want you anywhere near me, or my daughter, just stay away from us you hear!"_

_Harry's knees buckled and he slid to the floor, he hadn't felt like this since Sirius died. Ginny was just openly staring at him, utter shock splashed across her face._

"_I never want to see you again, just get out of my life!" _

_And with that, Ron left to marry Margaret Grimshaw and Rose Weasley began her new life as a lonely heartbroken._


	8. Sixth Change A Valentine Interest

**AN**

**Thank you everyone who commented, it's really nice of you.**

**I'm sorry for the onlg wait for this chapter, I hope the content makes up for it.**

Sixth Change – A Valentine Interest

Early one February evening found me in the Library and I was attempting to complete my Muggle Studies essay about Cinemas, but an insistent _irritation_ was, well, irritating me.

I glanced up again at Malfoy and Goyle, the latter being the one who was causing such an annoyance to me. Sure she could be a nice girl (if she tried), but that giggle was seriously cutting through my eardrums and causing me some sort of brain damage, I swear.

I have no idea how Malfoy puts up with it, I have to say though, on his part he does _look_ like he's trying to shut her up, but he's doing a fairly feeble attempt at it. I wish he'd try harder because I may have to go over there and cause _her_ some brain damage.

I slowly counted to ten under my breath and closed my eyes momentarily. Slowly I opened them again and turned my attention back to the book propped open in front of me;

_Admission to a movie may also be restricted by a rating system. According to such systems, children or teenagers below a certain age may be forbidden access to theatres –_

I seriously think I'm going to go mad! If she doesn't stop that bloody laugh!

"Aw Scorpy, don't leave!" she moaned.

_Please leave, oh please just leave_, I silently begged.

Malfoy said something quietly but firmly, only to have her whine back. I heard the screech of a chair being pushed back and her disgruntled huff.

"Fine, I'll just leave you to your drawing, or what ever it is you're doing," she paused, I glanced up to see her 'seductively' lean into him and say in a low whisper, "but I'll see you in the common room tonight." It was less of a question and more of a statement.

"Just leave Goyle," his voice sounded strained.

She turned and left the Library, swaying her hips and making me feel a little sea sick just looking at her.

I heard the relived sigh from Malfoy and could not contain the small giggle that popped inside of me, I kept my eyes on the book in front of me, but I didn't take anything in, I just kept giggling like a little girl.

After that I eventually got my essay done, relatively well I think too.

Once my essay was done I spent another hour in the Library, reading my copy of _Advanced Potion making,_ (disguised of course). I'd begun to make my own notes, copying down the spells and making a note of what they did.

_Levicorpus_, I knew what that one did having seen my father use it on Uncle Harry many years ago when Uncle Harry had put some spiders on my father's bed.

_Sectumsempra_, it took me a fair bit of researching, but I found out the outcome of that one. Well I don't think I'll ever be using _that _one!

Finally I gathered up my books, stretched slightly, (I had been sitting down for a good few hours) and decided to head back to my dormitory before dinner, glancing at Malfoy I saw he was still sat there, an odd studious expression on his face as he gazed down at whatever work was before him.

I turned to look forward only to find myself looking into the chest of some unknown person. I couldn't stop in time and ended up colliding with them, in the process I dropped all of the books I had and my neatly scripted essay.

I swore lightly under my breath and quickly snatched up the disguised _Advanced Potion Making_ and the other books, but another hand picked up my essay.

I stood up straight and found myself looking at Marcus Sailsbury (Hufflepuff, my year), his hand holding my essay outstretched toward me.

"You have really neat hand writing you know," he said, I looked up at his plain blue eyes and saw a slight humour there.

"Thank you," I muttered and took my essay back, "sorry for knocking into you." I dropped my eye line, adjusting my books in my arms and preparing to leave, something about this conversation was making me uncomfortable.

"I didn't mind," he chuckled, "adds a bit of an, _interest_ to the day." I did **not** like the way he said that, "Anyway, I'll _see you around_, it was nice, um, _chatting_, to you."

I heard a snort behind me, only to realise it was Malfoy, "Seriously Sailsbury, do you have nothing better to do on a Friday evening than chat up girls," it was heavily sarcastic and I could almost see the perfect eyebrow that was raised, "Talk about leagues." Malfoy let the insult hang and I guessed he was insulting both Marcus and me.

"I think I'm perfectly within my league, _Malfoy_!" Marcus spat the name out as if it was hurting his mouth, "and I'm perfectly within my _rights_ to talk to Weasley."

I was getting a tad confused standing between the two males who seemed to be staring each other off over my head.

Malfoy just smirked, "Well if you want her so much just ask her to sleep with you and be done with it."

My eyes widened and I looked up at Marcus in shock, to my utmost disgust he just grinned expectantly down at me. "Seriously?" I asked, my own eyebrow raised. I didn't let him answer and just simply left the Library, hurrying back to my dorm, and hearing Malfoy chuckling behind me.

I didn't go to dinner that evening, I didn't think I could stand the embarrassment of seeing Sailsbury (yes I'd gone back to last name terms with him after his undoubtedly male ways). I don't think any of the male population can hold themselves together when the mention of sex is anywhere near them.

Saturday was a Hogsmeade day, seeing as it was Valentine's week starting Monday, with the Ball on the Saturday evening.

After the outcomes of the last ball, I'd decided I wasn't needed, but I'd arranged a meeting with Sandra Brigen, the head girl, to discuss an idea I'd had in regards to the ticket fail.

"Miss Weasley, I'm glad you came and asked me about this," Sandra said kindly, sitting down opposite me in the Transfiguration room.

"I'm sorry if you were planning to go to Hogsmeade, this won't take too long I promise." I found myself able to talk freely with the Ravenclaw girl.

"No, don't worry, this is more important, and besides, I've already got my dress for the ball."

I smiled weakly at her, avoiding telling her I wouldn't be there.

"Now, the theme of the ball is masked, so it is gong to be harder to forbid younger students from coming," Sandra nodded, encouraging me to continue, "we can't simply cast a age boundary line over the entrance because some are in younger years, but have a plus one ticket and so have a right to be there."

Sandra nodded again, "I see what you mean, what do you propose we do?"

"Well if we can't charm the door to not accept ages, can we charm it instead to only accept ticket holders?"

Sandra smiled, "That's genius, are you sure you're not in Ravenclaw?"

I blushed, "No, Gryffindor for me."

"Well the tickets are already charmed; they have the spell on them that causes the mask."

I frowned at her, _a masking spell_, "the masking is being done by a spell?"

"Yes, they cause people around to not be able to recognise the face of the person under the spell. Flitwick found it for me, we have it triggered to 'turn off' at midnight so everyone can see who their dancing with."

"_That's_ genius," I smiled at the blonde before me, "when is the spell activated?"

"At nine, half an hour before the ball starts," she grinned, "I suppose I should say, I'll see you there, but under the circumstances, I actually wont. Thanks for the idea Rose, I'll mention to McGonagall who came up with it."

I sighed in relief, she wouldn't know if I wasn't there, and now I'd given this idea I didn't feel so guilty about not going.

Although, somewhere deep down inside me there was a small voice wishing, just wishing, that maybe _My Prince_ would make me his plus one.

After Sandra had left I found myself alone, not much of a surprise there, in McGonagall's classroom.

I stayed sat there, my legs tucked up, idly day dreaming about a masked Prince asking me to dance at the Valentine Ball.

I was startled out of my imagination by McGonagall, Malfoy and Sailsbury entering the room, McGonagall leading the other two with a disapproving scowl.

She blinked a few times when she saw me, her eyebrows finding residence in her hair line and her face softening as her eyes made contact with my own dazed owns. "Miss Weasley, did you need to speak to me?" her tone was kind and gentle; Malfoy was frowning in confusion, a perfect eyebrow raised, while Sailsbury dropped a slow wink in my direction earning a scowl from Malfoy.

"Um no, I was just doing some studying in here, but I'll head on to the Library, I'm sure it's quietened down now people have left for Hogsmeade."

McGonagall smiled sympathetically at me, obviously pleased that I'd formed a long sentence in her presence that wasn't to do with what topic we were studying in class. She glanced at the two boys standing behind her, "It would seem that not everyone even made it as far as Hogsmeade before causing trouble."

I stood, grabbing my book bag that I always had with me, and hurried from the room. I caught the start of what would be McGonagall's rant, "What in Merlin's name would invoke you to hex him Mr Malfoy…"

I found myself grinning as I headed in the general direction of the kitchens, a mug of hot chocolate would be nice right about now, it is also nice when Slytherins were punished for their wrongs, regardless of which Slytherin they are.

Sunday brought about a Quidditch practice, so at nine in the morning I was clutching my _Firebolt Sparks_ in the crisp chill that February seemed to favour, and having another day dream as Albus proceeded to talk to the beaters about some new tactic.

He'd already done the Chaser tactics (him being the Keeper we'd luckily missed out on that one) and I was absently awaiting my talk on Seeker moves.

"Rose!" he barked not unkindly, "I want you to listen to this…"

Eventually we took to the air and I spent a happy few hours chasing the snitch and weaving between players avoiding the quaffle (yes, I did say quaffle, apparently it was safer in practice to avoid a quaffle being thrown at you than the bludgers, my nosebleed begs to differ).

I trudged back to my dorm in the late afternoon worn out and ready for a nice shower to ease my aching muscles. Unceremoniously throwing my training gear on my bed and grabbing my towel I headed to the solace of the bathroom. The water seemed to cool my burning skin and throbbing muscles, offering me the release I needed.

After washing my hair and leaving the bathroom smelling of my lavender shampoo I padded softly back to my room wrapped in the warmth of the school towels.

I changed into some cotton trousers and a thin strapped top before pulling my black school robe on to cover them and, too tired to dry it, tugged my hair into two loose plaits, tucking them under so they wouldn't go down my back.

I headed on down to dinner then, glad to welcome the substance into my system after the draining day.

That night as I lay there thoughts of school mingling around in my mind, I found my last conscious thought to be of the prince, _My Prince_.

I woke to an unnerving sight, a pair of large deep black orbs scrutinising me, from only a few inches away from my own brown eyes.

I jumped back, swearing lightly under my breath. There sat on my bedside table was a pitch black owl, his head cocked to the side as he looked at me, _I'm using 'he' here as if I know it's male_, I thought, chuckling slightly, over my initial shock now. The owl held out his laden leg, a small brown parcel and note secured with a white silk ribbon.

I grinned, feeling elated as I gently got them free. I soothed the feathery head for bringing me such goodness and he took a small affectionate nip to my finger.

The parcel contained another silver charm, this one a wand, it was so intricately sculpted I could see the wood grain in the metal.

Smiling I clipped it on my bracelet next to the book, admiring it for a few moments before turning to the note.

_Oh can't you see_

_When you're looking at me_

_The way that I see you_

_The way that I do ……_

He'd written me a poem; he'd actually written _me_ a poem. I stared in disbelief at it before I even took in what it was saying.

This parchment held my first ever love note, _My Prince_ had written a poem about me. I felt the happy tears choke in my throat, this person was gradually stealing my heart to him and at the moment I really didn't mind.

With a euphoric heart and a flittering smile I made my way to breakfast, the black owl resting on my shoulder until I reached the entrance hall.

He took off as four Slytherins came at me from the direction of the dungeons; Mclaggen, Baker, Pritchard and Malfoy - in other words, 'Triple J' and their sometimes forth member.

"Would you look at that, Weasley isn't dirt, she just attracts it," McLaggen sneered from behind me to his companions.

I heard their chuckle but carried on walking to breakfast, letting the bird take flight out of the main doors and probably to the owlery.

Baker, the slightly slower of the of the group said stupidly, "but doesn't Malfoy have like a dark owl?"

There was the distinctive sound of someone being hit with a book and then a foul curse.

"Yes," said McLaggen, his voice heavily irritated, "but Malfoy isn't a _blood traitor_." I heard an annoyed grunt which I could only assume came from Baker.

I suddenly didn't feel so happy anymore and the thoughts of food just made me feel sick. I spun around before I reached the door and headed back up to the Gryffindor tower, I could do with some quiet time before I had potions.

Of course I deserved to be taunted like that, I'd turned away from my new 'family', what with me also being a half-blood when my pureblood Slytherin step-siblings still had a pureblood 'father'.

I may deserve it, but on no level did I welcome it, there was no way I liked this treatment. It hurt because I knew I couldn't have my family back, it hurt because there was nothing to do, it hurt because I was human, it hurt because I had feelings just like anyone else.

I spent another silent potions lesson, carefully avoiding the 'non-blood-traitor-ing' Malfoy and not even being able to smile at Albus when he greeted me.

The next morning brought a creepily exciting déjà vu as I gazed into the dark eyes of the black Owl. This time the charm was a broom, I chuckled as I clipped it on, _My Prince_ obviously reminding me of my making it onto the team.

I was anxious to open the note, scared that he had written another poem, yet excited in case he had. It took me a few moments to notice this one followed on from the previous note;

……_And Oh can't you feel_

_My heart's appeal_

_To your beautiful smile_

_Your unique style……_

I gushed, my cheeks filling with blood and, despite being the only one awake, I tilted my head to let my fringe shyly cover my eyes.

I let the owl out of my window before heading for breakfast, not eager for another incident like yesterday. It was needless as they emerged well after I'd started sipping my orange juice, my back turned firmly toward them so I wouldn't see the looks of disgust they threw my way.

Wednesday morning I could hardly wake up early enough, but the owl still beat me, proudly standing on my bedside table; one leg stuck out holding the small parcel and note; and I swear he was smirking at me. _Could owls even smirk?_ Well _I_ think he was, laughing at me because I still didn't get up before him.

I had a quill charm that morning and I fingered it lightly as I read through the next stanza.

… _And Oh can't you hear_

_What rings in my ear_

_Your sweet tender tone_

_That I want for my own…_

The dots at the end just heightened my anticipation, and even a run in with the steps couldn't bring me totally down.

Well not all the way down, but I think the blood stain on the flagstones in the dungeon corridor will be there for a while.

I swear I didn't know that when they hexed me and my arm broke that the broken bone would pierce the skin. It hurt a fair amount, but pain doesn't mean much to me anymore, because up until recently I couldn't even hurt inside.

But now after _My Prince_ had shown me such compassion that I didn't even know anyone could feel for me, it just lifted my heart and made me think that maybe he was just that one special person whom I could love.

Thursday morning, I still didn't wake before the black owl, there it perched, gazing calmly down at me and I swear it had a twinkle in its eyes that was mocking me. I ruffled his feathers slightly, earning a playful nip, and I slipped off the brown paper containing my new silver representation of fire. A small scribbled note of the inside of the brown read, _'a flame for the flaming red-head'_, I don't know why from him hearing red-head just made me grin, but from anyone else it made me angry.

Friday morning again I could not awake before the owl, but now I didn't mind, I just eagerly clipped my new charm to my bracelet.

It was heart, this time I almost forgot to read the next stanza of the poem, my own heart was pounding so heavily in my chest as I couldn't tear my eyes away from the polished silver.

He'd given me a heart, _his heart_.

_And Oh can't you smell_

_Your captivating spell_

_An intoxicating trail_

_That makes me go frail_

I had a free first and I spent a happy hour in the company of the proud black owl whilst I did a potions essay sat on my bed, still grinning when I made my way down to Potions.

"What are you so happy about?" Albus asked as he passed my desk.

"Oh nothing," I said quietly, quickly hiding the smile. But as soon as his back was to me the smile crept back again.

Oddly Malfoy leaned toward my desk, a small smirk on his lips, "he's right, you look unusually happy."

I smiled slightly in his direction.

"It suits you."

_Whoa! Where did that come from?_ "Um, thanks." I said, but had already gone back to his desk; I think I may have imagined him saying it.

I think this day will stay in my memory for many years to come, because this day was the first day I was ever asked to a ball.

Yes, _my Prince_ had a note waiting for me on my pillow when I got to bed that night.

_To my darling Rose_

_I would be honoured if you would accompany me to the masked ball on Saturday night._

_If you wish to mean yes, then please wear something blue tomorrow. _

_I will be waiting._

_Please make me happy._

_Love, your Prince_

**AN**

**Thank you all for reading so far.**

**Any comments on how to make it better are much appreciated. **

**The next chapter will be up soon!**

**Thanks**

**SB**


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